All Rise...

Editor's Note

The Charge

Prepare for the role of your lifetime.

Opening Statement

If Class Act executive producer Morgan Spurlock (of Super Size
Me fame) continues to inject consciousness, heart, and relevance into all of
the films he attaches his name to, Al Gore may need to watch his Nobel-toting
back.

Facts of the Case

With drama teacher extraordinaire Jay W. Jensen as the guide, Class
Act explores the declining role of creative arts programs in children's
education. This decline is not only portrayed by showcasing the tired
instruments and shuttered rooms of former music and drama programs, but by
showcasing those who wouldn't be where they are today if it weren't, generally,
for the arts, and, specifically, for Jensen.

The Evidence

Morgan Spurlock's only physical presence in this film is during the prologue
when he cheesily introduces the film with the aid of his rusty trombone skills.
Thankfully, Miami Beach drama dynamo Jay W. Jensen soon takes over the movie and
Spurlock moves deftly behind the scenes.

Dressed all in black (in every scene), with a full head of white hair, the
70-ish Jensen is first shown heading off to work as a drama teacher via the city
bus. He is an elfish man with a prominent glimmer in his eyes, and it is
instantly obvious he loves life, his work, his students, and, most importantly,
the arts and education.

As the movie progresses more and more astonishing information about Jensen
emerges. But Jensen is a man to be revered from the first scene when he is
simply an aging teacher heading off to work.

Jensen is lucky to have a job in his field at all. After decades teaching
drama at Miami Beach High, the department was shuttered. This movie has many
messages and facets and one of the more prominent themes is the decline of arts
programs in public schools due to the federal government's "No Child Left
Behind Act."

A slew of educated and eloquent experts are interviewed throughout the film
detailing how an emphasis on standardized testing has insidiously chipped away
at arts education, despite the federal government's firm denial of such an
effect. But this isn't a "political" film.

The viewer is taken to a school bearing the name of John Philip Sousa, the
great composer and conductor. There the drama room is used for in-school
suspension and rusting drums are stored in a locked closet.

Juxtaposed against the experts and the artless schools are a number of
interviews with Jensen's now-famous pupils. It is a testament not only to Jensen
but to the film's message that the likes of Andy Garcia, Brett Ratner, Desmond
Child, and Roy Firestone offer themselves extensively and openly to the
movie.

All of Jensen's former students tower over their diminutive teacher, but
they all look like they want to hug him endlessly. And they all share stories of
being overlooked or unenthused by school until they meet Jensen and are turned
on to the arts.

Besides Jensen's students who go on to work in the arts, the film also
profiles less obvious professionals who have been inspired by the arts and by
Jensen. There are rabbis and lawyers and government officials, all sparkling
when they talk about Jensen's class. Some even break out in song.

The message their presence in the film portrays is another important theme
of the film: the arts help kids, people, in many aspects of life outside of
dance classes and music lessons. The loss of arts education is the loss of a
well-rounded American society says the film.

But back to Jensen. It turns out not only is he a tireless advocate for the
overlooked or trouble-making kids whom he inspires to greatness, but he is a
raging philanthropist donating nearly $3 million dollars to the University of
Miami.

If the best form of leadership is to lead by example, Jay W. Jensen is the
best kind of leader. As is this movie. Instead of lamenting endlessly the
decline of arts in public education or lambasting the federal government,
Class Act juxtaposes loss with gain, pain with pleasure. The movie found
a wonderful advocate for the arts and used him, and his ring of successful
students, as the icons of what this country stands to lose if arts education
continues to deteriorate. It is advocating art through art, and it is a powerful
message.

The Rebuttal Witnesses

I was looking forward to the special features, because I was so charmed by
Jensen and wanted to know more about him, maybe a look at his own attempts at
acting or footage of one of his directorial productions. Instead, the special
features were devoted to more footage of interviews with Jensen's celebrity
students, who were not lacking for screen time during the actual film. The
featurette with the director Sara Sackne and producer Heather M. Winters (both
former students of Jensen's) was interesting, however, and righted my initial
impression that Spurlock was the writer/director.

Closing Statement

In 90 minutes I too became smitten with Jay W. Jensen. When I sat down to
write this review I was saddened to learn that he passed away in 2007. But he
now has a film to his name worthy of his legacy.

The Verdict

Sometimes you don't have to prepare, you just have to let it
happen—unless you don't have access to those opportunities in the first
place. Then you have to prepare three times as hard.